


I will name my son after you

by JulieArchery107



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Didn't do a lot of research, Hilarity Ensues, Time Travel, non-canon, take it with a grain of salt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2020-02-29 16:22:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18781840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulieArchery107/pseuds/JulieArchery107
Summary: Ever wondered how Thranduil got the idea for Legolas's name? Here is my version of what happened that includes magic and a bit of time travel. It all started two days before the journey to Mordor with two pesky hobbits getting ahold of Gandalf's staff, wanting to play 'wizards' for a moment. This all backfires and Legolas ends up sent to a time where all the elf Lords, are children.





	1. Chapter 1

"I will name my son after you."

Chapter 1

"Innocent games, lead to dangerous consequences."

"Ugh…" Confused, sky blue eyes blinked slowly against the harsh sun that shone down on them. The owner of the groan, pulled one of his arms from under his belly and used it to shield his sensitive pupils from the sunlight. The green-clad elf could now see that he was in some kind of forest, his vision being filled with mostly tree-like wildlife and small bushes and, even though he did not recognize where he was, he was happy it wasn't Dol Guldur.

With a sore groan Legolas pulled himself upwards from his awkward position on the ground. "What…happened?" The poor elf muttered to no one in particular, looking around the landscape around him. The archer's mind was plagued by questions that were left irritably unanswered. "Where am, I?" Being the most popular one amongst the rest.

Shaking his blond head as to clear it a bit, Legolas focused on the small details he could recall, before ending up in this unknown forest. A fer a minute, albeit slowly, the lost memories began to reappear.

He remembered talking with Aragorn about something silly, while heading to the common room in Rivendell. The journey of the Fellowship was about to begin in two days and Gandalf told all the nine members, to meet him there so that they can discuss the important matters concerning the way they were going to travel.

Legolas could remember chuckling at the sight of Merry and Pippin playing around with the wizard's staff, shouting unreal spells and curses at everyone they saw.

The elf could hear Boromir asking Mithrandir if it was wise to allow those two whippersnappers, to play with such a dangerous weapon, in the back of his cloudy head, and even himself seconding the question with a bit of concern. But Gandalf couldn't see anything going wrong, since Marry and Pippin don't know any real spells, and told them to allow the hobbits to have some fun before the hardships of the journey began.

The son of Thranduil, snorted.

Judging by the fact that he ended up in an unknown location, without remembering ever leaving the palace of Lord Elrond. He quested that both he and the Gondorian warrior, ignored their instincts deciding to listen to the wizard instead.

Concentrating harder on the events that happened before his awakening, the Crown Prince of Mirkwood could vaguely recall images of the rest of the Fellowship, joining in the fun. Pretending to be injured by the invisible orc-destroying spells, or changed into whatever animal the mischievous hobbits called out swinging the large wand.

He could remember shaking his head at the rest of the group making fools of themselves, being the only one with enough brain cells to know this was a terrible idea.

The Mirkwood elf couldn't remember if he was hit because Merry swung the wand at him or if he jumped in the way of the spell to protect Aragorn, but either way it seemed that his instincts were proven correct once again and he was, once more, paying the price for the people that didn't listen to them.

Sighting Legolas shakily stood up and looked down at himself to scan for any possible injuries.

His green-brown archer uniform was still intact, with his bow, arrows, quiver and twin knives all in their respectable places, without visible damage.

His arms and legs as well as his torso didn't seem to even be bruised, felling quite normal whenever he moved them around or prodded at them with his fingers.

The archer's neck and back were a bit sore from the position he laid in, but that was to be expected.

All in all he sustained no physical injuries, so the elf guessed the teleportation spell must have been one of the harmless ones, thank the Valar.

After thinking through the situation at hand, Legolas concluded that: he's in a forest he doesn't recognize, after being teleported via magic staff by two non-magic hobbits, with no way to know where he is, how to get back to Rivendell or how long he was unconscious.

"Well," Legolas muttered to himself, stretching his weary body. "I've been in worse situations before." The blonde tried to consult himself. "At least I'm not lieing somewhere half-dead after being beaten by a bunch of orcs, or held captive in Dol Guldur." He muttered. Even after his small attempt in cheering himself up, he had to say he wasn't happy with the situation he was in.

'Estel and Mithrandir are probably torn between yelling at the hobbits and worrying frantically about me.' The elf smiled at the image of a furious ranger switching uncontrollably between the 'I'll-kill-you-for-this' mode, and the 'Mother-hen' mode.

But the smile quickly vanished when he remembered the even that was due time, in two days.

Seeing that he had no way of telling how long he was out, nor how long will it take for him to come back to Rivendell, the poor elf had to accept the fact that the Fellowship will have to complete the mission, without him.

"I'm sorry I can't be there with you, Estel." He whispered into the bright-blue sky. "I just hope you can complete your destiny, without allowing the worry for me to cloud your judgement."

His small prayer was interrupted by a small voice.

"Who's, Estel?" Hearing it Legolas looked at the tree next to him, only to see a young elfling perched upon one of its branches, watching him with big silver-blue eyes. "And who are you talking to?"

The child couldn't be older than ten in human years, platinum-blonde hair and a similar warrior uniform to what Legolas himself wore, only difference were the colors. Where the prince's one was green, the boy's was silver and where his was brown, the child's was blue.

Looking into the sparkly irises of the elfling's eyes, the Mirkwood archer had a distant feeling he knew those orbs from somewhere. He also silently admonished himself for not sensing the presence sooner.

"A friend." The golden haired elf answered the boy's first question. "One I hold dearly in my heart that I fear, I might never see again." Legolas added looking back at the slow-moving clouds.

"Oh." The elfling nodded, lowering his head. "Did he go away to the Halls of Mandos?"

"No." The archer shook his head. "But I fear he may, soon."

"If you worry for him so much…why didn't you go with him, sir?" The boy asked curiosity heard loudly in his little voice.

"I wanted too, but…" Legolas hesitated. "An unfortunate event kept me from accompanying him and now…I have no chance of catching up with his party."

"Oh…" Was all the child could say to this and for a minute, they both stood there in silence.

Fortunately the elfling grew bored with the sober atmosphere and decided he wanted to cheer the stranger, up.

"I have an idea!" The boy clicked his fingers together, jumped down from his tree branch and began pulling on Legolas's sleeve.

"Do you really?" The archer raised an eyebrow, deciding to humor the child.

"Uh-Huh!" The little elf nodded in agreement. "Since you lost your old friend, I'll be your new one!" He stated proudly, happy with his idea.

Legolas chuckled and ruffled the child's hair.

"I admire your enthusiasm, little elfling," He said fondly. "But didn't your father tell you to, never talk to strangers?" He asked raising an amused eye-brow.

The child pouted.

"You're no stranger, you're from Mirkwood." The elfling stated pointing at the older elf's uniform. "And I'm Thranduil Oropherion, crown prince of Greenwood the Great. I can do whatever I want!"

The child was so busy introducing himself that he didn't notice Legolas's eyes widen in surprise and shock.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'll name my son after you."

Chapter 2

"Irony."

"What's your name? I was supposed to be called 'Oropher Jr' but mom said that's too selfish on dad's part, because they didn't have another elfling that would be named after her. That's what Ada told me, anyway. I wouldn't have minded, my dad's name is awesome! It's funny how nobody asked me what I wanted to be named, since it was my name they were choosing! How old are you? I'm 110 but my birthday is in three days, so you don't have to worry if you forget the exact number! What's your favorite color? Mine is gold and ruby! You know, like golden coins and beautiful rubies! When I become king, I'm going to have hundreds, no, thousands of them in my castle! Do you think that's too much? I don't think so! You can never have enough jewels in your life! Now that we're friends, can I meet your family? My dad is the king so I'm guessing you already know him. Do you have a pet? I have a little elk! I wanted to call him 'Cookie Balrog the III' because he kept stealing all my chocolates, but Ada said it'd be offensive to all the living Balrogs in Arda, so we just named him 'Bonbon'. Are you a good archer? Because you are an archer, right? You have a bow and quiver on your back, so that must mean you're an archer! Do you think you can hit that yellow leaf over there? And that acorn! And that tiny flower! All in one shot?! Can you, can you, huh? Huh?!"

If Legolas wasn't so focused on the fact that he was talking to a child version of his father, he would have noticed what a giant chatterbox the future Elvenking, was.

Still visibly pail he numbly nodded at the boy, not taking his eyes of little Thranduil for a moment. While his brain struggled to process the given information, without going insane.

From what he had gathered form his little encounter with the elfling that will grow to become his sire, Legolas figured the hobbits didn't accidentally sent him to another location, instead they sent him back in time so far, he and the rest of the fellowship weren't even in plans, yet!

Legolas himself wasn't going to appear on Arda for dozens of centuries from now, Isildur's great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather wasn't born yet, Golin's ancestors are probably just settling in Erebor, the names Baggins, Gamgee, Took and Brandenbuck probably don't exist in the Shire and poor Boromir will only exist in the archer's memory for a long, long, long time.

The only member who might be around at this time, was Gandalf. But that's because nobody ever told the prince of Mirkwood how old that wizard really was!

And, even if he did appear in this time period, it's not as if he could help Legolas get back to his own! He probably is still learning how to make ships from the smoke coming out of his dreaded pipe, for Valar's sake!

And that's when the weight of the situation finally hit the poor elf, with maximum force.

He was stuck in the past with no way to get back to the Rivendell, he knows. His best friend was on a dangerous quest to save all of Middle Earth, worried sick about him. A grown version of the elfling before him was probably pacing the throne room waiting for his son to return from the messenger mission he sent him on, not knowing that he's trapped in the distant past, which is probably just as dangerous as the trip he planned to take with Aragorn.

Reaching his hand towards a nearby tree for support, as his vision suddenly began to blur.

'By the Valar.' Legolas thought to himself becoming paler. 'I really am trapped here, aren't I? If I ever get back to my own time, father is going to kill me. Right after he murders the two hobbits for sending me back in the first place, and Mithrandir for the soul reason of letting them touch his magical staff-'

His though was cut off by the young Elven prince that was pulling on his sleeve.

"Hm?" Legolas blinked before looking down at the boy. "What is it, my prince?" The words tasted wired in his mouth. Being called that all his life, it was strange to call somebody else with that title. Especially if the person he's talking to, is normally the king.

"Are you okay?" Thranduil asked, looking at the blonde elf before him with concern. "You've been staring at this tree for a long time, and you haven't answered my questions." The platinum-blonde haired elfling accused, pointing at Legolas angrily and his pail blue eyes demanding answers.

"Very well then, my prince." The elder elf sighted, rubbing his sore temples. "My name is Legolas Greenleaf. I'm almost 3000 years old. My favorite colors are green and light blue. I'm afraid you can't meet my family since they all sailed. I have a horse called Nedorion as a pet and yes, I'm a very good archer. Though hitting the three objects you pointed out for me, would be difficult but not impossible with only one arrow." He finished, glancing at the tiny elf and wondering how on earth was he able to remember all the questions the youngster asked, if he wasn't even paying attention.

Thranduil's jaw dropped.

"Wow…you actually followed everything I said." He stated breathlessly. "Even Ada was never able to do that, and he listens to me all the time."

"I had a lot of practice with children." Legolas answered and it was true, Estel has been just as talkative as a child. "Speaking of your father…" He trailed of looking the bright boy in the eyes. "Does he know you're out here, on your own?"

"Yes!" The prince told him definitely before becoming less sure. "Well…not exactly, I'm supposed to be studying in the library right now, but…I'm a prince and I can do anything, I want!"

Legolas's jaw dropped.

"You disobeyed your father?!" He couldn't believe it. Here was Thranduil Oropherion the future king of Mirkwood, the same one that told him time and time again that when he was young, he always listened to his father because that's what a perfect prince, did.

"Well…not exactly." Thranduil said, biting his lower lip. "I told him I was going to study, but I never said where I was doing to do it."

Legolas deadpanned.

"That's probably the worst excuse ever!" He yelled throwing his arms up. "I mean, where else can you study if not in the library?!"

"I also didn't tell him what I was going to study." The young elf defended himself. "I could be in the library, studying history or politics or on the training fields, practicing swordfight and archery."

"But you're not in any of those places, Thranduil!" Legolas couldn't believe he was the one saying those words to his father, and not the other way around. "You lied to your Adar, my Prince and that's not something a future king should do." The irony of the situation did not escape him.

"A future king should also be able to do what he wants." The actual prince countered, defensively. "And all I can do, has to be inside the palace. No hunting, no fishing and definitely no camping trips." Thranduil whined and Legolas couldn't help but sympathize. He knew how hard it was to be a single child in the family, sometimes he envied Estel having two older brothers with whom he could do all kinds of stuff and go to all kinds of places, without Elrond being prissy about it. "I wish Ada wouldn't be so protective of me. I'm a big boy now, I don't need a nanny. If my son was as old as I am now, I wouldn't lock him up in the palace. I'd let him have some fun on his own, see the world…what? Why are you looking at me like that, Legolas?"

The archer's eye was twitching.


	3. Chapter 3

"I'll name my son after you."

Chapter 3

"Meeting King Oropher."

After Legolas got his slight anger under control, Thranduil realized it was almost time for dinner and that his father never liked it when he was late.

"Ada is going to be so mad." The elfling whimpered, pulling Legolas's sleeve as they made their way towards the Mirkwood palace. "He'll probably take Bonbon away from me for an entire week! Or make me eat broccoli for dessert. DESSERT! For an entire year! Yuck! I hate those green, little orc-spits! I think they were specifically designed to poison us elves, don't you, Legolas? Because only an orc, or an dwarf, would be cruel enough to-"

"Yes that's all very fascinating, my prince." The older grunted trying to keep up with the small version of his sire, all the while not tripping in a very un-elf-like fashion. "But why are you dragging me to the palace?" Legolas asked, pushing away another treacherous tree-branch that dared to try scarring his face.

The small prince of Mirkwood turned around and smiled sheepishly at the archer.

"Well um…once we get to the palace my dad will be pretty angry and…well I can't take all the blame, now can I?" The little brat answered, giving Legolas the most innocent, angel-like smile he ever saw.

"You are going to use me as a scapegoat?!" The future prince said, not believing, yet again, his ears. This was his father. The same proud elf that bragged about taking responsibility for his actions, since a very early age, no matter what the consequences might be. Just like a real prince.

"'A king must know how to make sacrifices for the good of the kingdom, as well as the survival of the royal family'." Thranduil quoted from a 'how-to-be-a-good-king' book Legolas recalled reading, while he himself was but an elfling.

Brat.

The child's chest was puffed proudly, as if he already was the king of the Woodland realm.

"And, if my dad kills me now," Thranduil continued. "The second part of the rule will be violated." A giant grin spread across the young face. "And besides, I thought you soldiers were not afraid to give your lives, for the only successor to the throne." The prince added raising an eyebrow.

'True, but you are not the only successor to the throne, anymore.' Legolas thought narrowing his piercing blue eyes at the elfling, as they continued their journey through the forest. 'I might not be born yet, but I'm still your son and therefore a prince of Mirkwood!' He then quickly disposed of those thoughts, shaking his head. 'Don't let your princeling father get to you, you idiot!' Legolas scolded himself silently. 'A lot of good that information does you, right now! Especially when, like you said, you don't even exist in this reality, yet!' He wanted to kick himself. 'Get a grip, Legolas!'

"What's the matter, Legolas?" Thranduil asked, speaking the taller archer's name with a mocking voice. "Afraid my daddy's gonna spank you?" The boy then stuck his tongue at the archer, with his hands crossed on his chest. Seeing that the taller elf wasn't taking the bait, the little whippersnapper tried a different approach.

"Legolas is a chicken! A chicken, a small, defenseless chicken!" Thranduil danced around, making chicken noises and moving his arms up and down like a chicks wings. "A yellow chicken afraid of orcs, sucks his thumb at night and can't shoot a target that's right in front of him!"

"Why you little-" Legolas whispered before breaking into a run to grab the child, with every intention of tying him to a tree, face first, and showing him just how bad his aiming really is.

Thranduil yelped and began running for his life through the castle doors, trying to gain some ground against the furious elf.

The two ran through well-known to them both halls, occasionally avoiding servants and warriors along the way.

"Get back here, you little brat!" Legolas yelled jumping over an expensive vise he knows, Oropher got from Earendil, Lord Elrond's father, a long time ago. His father never liked it when he touched it as a child, so he figured it was very important to the future king Thranduil.

"You're going to have to catch me first, Leggy!" The brattling called back, pushing a calmly standing tiny table onto the way behind him.

"Don't call me Leggy!"

"Leggy, Leggy, Leggggggy!"

"That's it! I'm using my bow and arrows!"

"Hey, hey, hey! Stop it! That one almost hit me, Leggy! Have you been taking lessons?!"

"Call me 'Leggy' one more time and I'll show you!"

"WHAT IS GOING ON AROUND HERE?!" A loud, commanding, no-nonsense voice called out from the other side of the hall.

Legolas gasped at the familiar tone and stopped so suddenly, he nearly tripped over his own feet.

Thranduil yelped louder than the last time and quickly changed he direction of his run, deciding that facing the archer and his bow and arrows is less dangerous than coming face-to-face with his father.

The future prince of Mirkwood could only watch as the young elfling hid behind him, when loud footsteps were heard approaching from the other side at an alarming rate.

'Oh great.' Legolas thought to himself, cursing his luck. 'Oropher is coming, oh joy. What am I supposed to tell him?!' He thought panicking. 'Hello there, grandpa Oropher! I'm Legolas, prince of Mirkwood! Son of the little abomination you call a child, here. I come from the far future, transported here by two halflings that decided it was a good idea to play around with Mithrandir's wand, in which, unfortunately, Sauron is still alive and kicking, and you are no longer king. Not because you decided it was my father's time to shine, but because uh…some orcs under the Black Gates killed you during the fearsome battle in about a few hundred years. But! Rnough about that! Let us focus on the good things instead, shall we? For example, you shouldn't worry about Sauron and his minions, grandfather! Me, the heir of a man called Isildur, whose name means nothing to you because he wasn't alive during your time, four hobbits, a dwarf, a man named Boromir, Mithrandir and me were going on a quest to destroy the one ring…which wasn't forged yet so you don't know what I'm…talking…about…Uh…but yeah…all you need to know is that it needs to be destroyed and…Valar take it! Let me start over!'

Legolas could tell Oropher will be just in front of him in a few seconds and was debating whenever it is wise to just run away.

'Valar, what am I supposed to say?!'


	4. Chapter 4

"I'll name my son after you."

Chapter 4

"Cold…oh so cold."

Legolas swallowed a lump in his throat as the tall figure of his diseased grandfather, appeared in sight. His posture angry and the metal plates on his gleaming amour, clinking as he moved.

Oropher was a good head taller than the Mirkwood archer, his long hair was in the uncanny color of pure silver and his royal clothing resembling more a knight's amour, than a fancy tunic that was usually Thranduil's preference.

Legolas's grandfather was a warrior king. A leader of war, not peace. And wasn't afraid to put his life at risk, for his soldiers. A trait that was passed on to the future prince of Mirkwood, much to the worry of future king Thranduil.

Wherever conflict appeared in his realm, he didn't send his generals and captains too sort it out.

He sent himself.

As he got closer the young Mirkwood archer resisted the urge to turn around and run. He heard the terrifying stories of Oropher's wrath, that were nearly as famous as Thranduil's, when he was a elfling and elf-maiden's used those tales as a means of scaring him for being naughty.

And the one thing that made those stories all the more creepy was the fact that, during that time, Oropher was already dead.

And what was scarier than an alive, angry grandfather Oropher?

Why, a dead, angry grandfather Oropher, of course. One that can hunt you forever and ever.

And, frankly, little Legolas had a great fear of ghosts.

That knowledge was often used by hand-maidens that grew tired of mending his leggings, every time he returned from his playtime in the woods.

And currently, Legolas was coming dangerously close to actually being able to compare the two sides of Oropher and seeing which one is indeed, more terrifying.

The archer was not looking forward to it.

"Thranduil Oropherion." The king's loud, booming voice pulled the future prince of Mirkwood out of his musings. "Explain you're resent unorthodox behavior, immediately!"

Legolas could feel his father pressing his face against the back of his knees and hugging his legs, not wanting to face his own sire's anger.

"Thranduil." The king said, his tone warning. "Do not make me repeat myself, boy." His voice was cold and hard as steel, a tone no one should use when addressing a mere elfling. "Be the responsible prince I raised you to be, and explain to me why you ran away from your tutors, for the fourth time this month."

The little prince swallowed a lump in his throat and slowly unwrapped his hands from around Legolas's legs, taking that time to think of a reasonable explanation.

"Thranduil!" The king was losing patience, what was evident in his tone. "I do not have all day for this! Explain yourself now, or suffer the consequences!" Legolas blistered. He should have known his father's legendary impatience, couldn't have come from his grandmother.

The elfling stepped up to his father, eyes downcast and back bent humbly.

"W-Well…you see A-Adar." Thranduil began, choosing his words carefully. "T-There was t-this b-big s-spider a-and I…I t-though, I c-could-" He was cut off before he could finish.

"The truth, boy." Oropher's voice was close to a snarl as he towered over the young elfling. "I want to hear nothing but the truth, leaving your mouth, Thranduil." He narrowed his eyes at his only son. "And so far you have failed miserably, to fulfil my expectations."

The future prince of Mirkwood blistered at the coldness radiating from his grandfather. He has heard that he wasn't the kindest elf around, but he expected him to show at least a bit of love, towards his single heir.

Legolas could hear Thranduil swallow again.

"I…I r-ran away b-because…" He whimpered, pulling on the edge of his tunic. "B-Because I-I w-wanted to p-play a little m-more amongst t-the trees, A-Adar."

A minute of silence filled the hall, as both the present and the future prince of Mirkwood awaited the king's answer.

What left the lord's mouth, hurt more than a thousand slaps in the face.

"I am disappointed in you, Thranduil." Oropher whispered harshly, saying his son's name like it was a curse of the worst kind, as he turned his back to both the young archer and his heir.

"B-But, Adar-" The little one cried, tears dripping down his cheeks.

"You will not address my person as such, until you learn what it means to be a prince." Oropher growled, icy eyes sparkling with rage, as he looked over his shoulder at the child. "Now go to your chambers and stay there until you see the sun rise again." He added, coldly. "You'll be missing dinner tonight as punishment."

"B-But-"

"Dismissed!"

The scared prince nearly jumped at the loudness of Oropher's dismissal, before he bowed hurriedly and turned away to leave. To cry to his pillow, for the rest of the night.

"Stay." Came the sharp command from Legolas's lips.

Oh the young archer was more than angry, more than enraged at how his grandfather treated his son. This cannot continue, and if nobody else is brave enough to stand up to Lord Oropher, then so be it.

He will.

Hearing the unknown elf speak for the first time, Oropher turned around, his slightly surprised eyes meeting Legolas's blazing orbs.

"H-Huh?" Thranduil asked, his voice shaky and weak.

"What did you say?" The king snarled, narrowing his eyes at the elf he now realized was in the room as well.

"I said, Stay." The future Mirkwood prince repeated, albeit a lot more forcefully, his eyes not leaving Oropher's form.

"You dare go against my order, elf?" Oropher asked, voice cold and demanding as he slowly made his way over to the blonde, using his taller figure to his advantage.

"Yes. I dare." The archer answered, caring little for the lord's size. "Because I for one, will not allow my prince to be unfairly punished." Legolas accused, voice steady. "Even if his punisher takes the form of my king."

"How I raise my children does not concern you, elfling." Oropher replied, coldly. "So I suggest you stay out of my way." He warned, voice low and threatening.

"It does concern me if he is to be my future ruler, my king." The archer answered calmly, using the same chilly tone. "And I don't see how punishing him so harshly for being a child, teaches him anything about ruling a kingdom."

"Thranduil needs to learn discipline, if he wishes to survive being a king in these dark times." Oropher growled, taking a quick glance at his son. "Nobody will follow a leader, who doesn't act like one. He needs to know that, or Greenwood the Great will fall the first week of his rule.''

"Acting one's age, is not a sign of weakness!" Legolas yelled, losing his legendary patience. "By the Valar, my king! Look at him!'' He pointed at the terrified young one. "Thranduil is a child, not a three-hundred year old elf, ready to be crowned king!"

"Thranduil is a prince!" Oropher yelled back at the unyielding young archer. "The only heir to the throne Mirkwood has, and will ever get." The warrior King's voice cracked as he whispered softly the last sentence, before hardening his voice once more. "He has lost the right to a normal childhood, ever since the war with Morgoth began." The king added angrily. "Thranduil may still be a youngling but he's also, if I ever fall in battle, the only thing that stands between the evil at our borders and the innocent lives in the kingdom." The king then looked again at his only son. "And I will not leave my father's kingdom in the hands of an incapable leader."

The young archer sighted and restrained from rolling his eyes.

He was getting nowhere with this conversation, Thranduil was still being harshly punished for missing his lessons and Oropher refuses to see the effect it has on the boy.

But…his eyes sparkled with a bit of idea, what if he proposes a compromise that will satisfy both the stern king and the fun-hungry prince?

"And you will not have to, my king." He said slowly, gaining the king's attention. "For I may have a solution to stop the young prince's notorious disappearances from classes."

Oropher raised an eyebrow.

"And what would that be?"

"My guess is the lessons are not interesting enough for the young lad to sit through for so long, and that's why he constantly runs away."

Oropher snorted.

"He's not supposed to like those lessons, archer.'' He said. "He's supposed to learn from them, not have fun.''

"Yes...'' Legolas slowly agreed. "But perhaps if they were lead more interestingly for him, he'd learn more and surprise you during the 'end-of-the-month' report."

The king thought for a moment.

"Let's assume I do go along with your plan, little archer." He said eyeing the brave newcomer. "There are no teachers in my kingdom who'd instruct well enough, to catch Thranduil's attention."

"That will be no problem, my king.'' Legolas answered quickly. "If you allow it, I'd like to try my hand in tutoring the prince.'' As the words left his mouth, he heard a shirt gasp leave the young prince's throat.

Oropher didn't answer for a long time, eyeing the younger elf with his silvery-blue orbs, giving Legolas the impression that his suggestion was given way to soon, before sighting and nodding his head.

"Very well then. Starting tomorrow you shall be my son's new tutor, mister…"

"Legolas." The future prince of Mirkwood quickly supplied, shocked his plan actually worked.

"Legolas then. You will be given a quarter in the palace, as well as supplied with books that Thranduil is supposed to learn from." Oropher nodded at him before turning towards his son. "But this changes nothing about your punishment, Thranduil." He narrowed his eyes again. "You're still missing dinner.''

The prince nodded shortly, not letting his eyes leave the archer.

When the king left to take care of his kingly duties, Legolas sighted and looked down at his father.

"Well… that could have gone worse, right?''


	5. Chapter 5

"I'll name my son after you."

Chapter 5

"Lessons and shocking revelations."

After that…conversation with Oropher, Thranduil took the young archer to his new room (which ironically turned out to be his own room in the nearby future, faith's sense of humor is really ironic) where he spent the reminder of the day, thinking about just what he got himself into.

The next morning Legolas found himself staring at the ceiling, watching the early rays of sunshine slowly make their way into the room, with his tired, bloodshot eyes. He didn't catch a nick of sleep trying to think of a way out of this terrible mess that the hobbits, not meaning to of course, threw him into.

So far all he got from the nightly 'Brainstorm' was a headache, a numb brain, puffy eyes and a deep desire to strangle two certain hobbits, as well as dully colored wizard that, so far, did nothing to bring him back to his proper timeline.

His thoughts were rudely interrupted by a servant knocking on his door, informing him that the royal family is awaiting him in the dining hall with breakfast.

Groaning the future prince of Mirkwood rubbed his swollen eyes and pushed himself off the comfortable bed, he was occupying.

Without much thought he walked out the room, since he didn't manage to change into a nightgown before darkness had befallen the room, and automatically made his way towards the dining area.

Once he reached the large room, he noticed that the spot he'd normally be occupying was now taken by Thranduil, and the spot his father usually sat at, was occupied by Oropher. Leaving him clueless to where he should sit down.

The table was clearly not small, with too many chairs to count and a lot more food than Legolas saw during his entire life, but the archer didn't know how much more elves were going to join the breakfast feast and how many seats already had their owners.

After a few minutes of him standing and making a complete fool of himself, Thranduil seemed to pity his new instructor and indicated the seat nearest to him with a slight nod of his fair head.

Nodding thanks to his father, Legolas quickly took the seat and began making himself a small sandwich with tomatoes, salad and a couple of cucumbers. Which he then ate in an uncharacteristic hurry, convinced that, the faster he begins this day, the faster it will end.

In all that rush, the future prince of Mirkwood didn't notice that the king was watching him very closely.

Once everyone finished eating Legolas and Thranduil went towards the younger prince's study room, while Oropher went back to his throne room where he was awaited by several of his highest generals and commanders, waiting to give their reports.

Entering the small, yet cozy study room, Middle-Earth's best archer sat down on the opposite side of his young prince with the steaming mug of tea he stole from the dining room, while Thranduil placed his studying material before him.

"So…" Legolas began, picking up the boiling hot cup with his right hand and leading it towards his mouth. "What's the material you were working on with your last tutor before I showed up?" He took a long, sniff of the delicious liquid awaiting him in the glass container. "Diplomacy? History? Math…" The archer trailed off, taking a sip of his tea.

"Geometry."

Legolas spat his tea out.

Muriniel sighted at the sight of his pacing king in the throne room. Panic and fear decorating the king's proud face as the tall, silver haired elf mumbled something incoherent under his breath.

He hasn't seen his leader so nervous since the king's first battle as an official ruler.

"My liege are you sure, you're not mistaken?" The redheaded advisor asked gently, not being able to take Oropher's silence anymore.

"Of course I'm sure, Muriniel." The king spat, his voice hard from the tension his whole body and mind was feeling from the absurd idea that entered his mind last night and plagued him ever since. "How could I not be? At first…I wasn't sure, thought this whole idea to be a trick of my imagination. That this archer's many similarities to me was nothing but a coincidence. But, just as I began to accept it, I…I saw his eyes." The king looked in to the advisors honey colored orbs with his own, silver-blue ones. A color that was unique to the Greenwood royal family and them alone, passed down from generation to generation, since the first king.

No other elves had this fascinating mix of ice-blue and gentle, steely-silver in their orbs.

"Muriniel he has my eyes."

"What do you mean Geometry?!" Legolas yelled once he stopped coughing out the droplets of tea that slipped down the wrong air pipe, while he was spitting out the hot liquid.

The future king Thranduil only blinked at him, confused about his outburst.

"Geometry has absolutely nothing to do with leading a kingdom!" The green clad archer yelled, gripping his hair in a show of frustration. He couldn't believe grandfather Oropher, would put his son though this!

"Ada says a king should be knowledgeable in all types of education." Thranduil argued, crossing his arms on his chest.

"No, Thranduil. A king should have knowledge of the studies that actually matter." Legolas explained softly. "Math allows you to count our kingdom's wealth, take care of our economics and bargain trades with other races. Politics teach you the arts of negotiation and how to make laws to strengthen your kingdom. History shows you your people's backstory, gives you role models to follow in footsteps, strategies that could be used in future battles, warn you about mistakes that were made and shouldn't be repeated. All those classes have a purpose, to make you the best king that can be." Legolas then snatched the large geometry book from the table. "This waste of time does not share the purpose I described to you so, in order to fix it, I'm going to go to the library right now and exchange it for something more useful." With that he left the stunned prince alone in the study room.

Geometry. Legolas sneered under his breath as he walked through the well-known halls towards the palace's book storage. The only thing more pointless would be teaching him how to knit.

The large library wasn't far from the study room, so the future prince found it pretty quickly.

First thing he did upon entry was throw the book onto the nearest empty shelf, and immediately heading towards the section where the giant volumes of 'Greenwood's Legends' waited patiently for him to pick them up.

These book will do well in capturing the young future king's imagination and interest, for it was full of fantastic battles, noble heroes and fascinating adventures.

While he was reaching for the first tom of the large series, Legolas noticed the most bizarre looking young elf he ever seen.

The teen didn't look much older than Thranduil, had a bush a red hair, large glasses on his freckled nose and strange metal braces on his teeth, and was currently carrying a bunch of new books to the east wing of the library.

Shrugging at the sight, the archer swiftly pulled out the volume he wanted to borrow for the current prince and headed straight to the reception where the book will be labeled 'burrowed'.

"Excuse me." He called out the elleth behind the reception desk. "I would like to borrow this book, please."

The elleth nodded and then called out to her helper, who was somewhere in the library.

"Sauron! This archer here wants to borrow a book!"


	6. Chapter 6

"I'll name my son after you."

Chapter 6

"Bulling is universal."

Legolas could only stare at the young elf that made his way towards the desk, for the first time in his long life not believing his superior hearing.

This couldn't possibly be who he thought this was.

Once the redhead placed himself in front of the archer he smiled kindly, showing off his impressive bracers that decorated the top line of his pearl-white teeth.

When the elder elf didn't react to his smile only continued to, a bit rudely, stare at him the young librarian cleared his throat to gain the other's attention.

"Yes? May I help you, Sir?" The child asked, pulling the blonde out of his shock. Caught staring Legolas's cheeks rightfully went pink as he rubbed the back of his neck, coughing awkwardly and feeling rightfully ashamed.

"Y-Yes please, I'd like to borrow this book." He pushed the said book into the boy's hands, before the child could question him about his staring.

The red-haired elf quickly looked over the object in his hands, to determine if its last user was respectful and responsible with using it, and not leaving 'donkey ears' at the sharp ends of the pages or jam stains on the words. Nodding his approval, the boy began checking if the 'Legend Collector' isn't booked for borrowing, before giving it to its new owner.

"All right, the book is free to use till the end of the next month Mr…?"

"Legolas, and I'm terribly sorry for staring at you, young one." The archer said, looking at the floor in shame. "That was terribly disrespectful of me."

The teen just shrugged, leaving the blonde archer with the sickening impression that this wasn't the first time this happened.

"Don't worry about it." He said in an almost nonchalant way. "I tend to get that a lot now that they came up with the brilliant idea of calling me 'Sauron', so…I'd be lieing if I said I wasn't used to it."

Legolas's head popped up at that.

"Wait…'Sauron' is not your real name then, little one?" The teen confirmed that with a shake of his head. "Then why did the elleth call you that?"

"It's their way of telling me, I'm not one of 'them' because of my looks." He gestured to his wild red hair, freckle-filled cheeks and silver braces. "They took the name of a very loyal and dangerous servant of Morgoth that is believed to be the creator of the urug-hai, as well as the Maia responsible for creating the art of mass-producing orcs." The librarian explained calmly. "They branded me with this name because I'm not…pretty like they are and everything that isn't pretty, is branded by them as an 'orc' or an 'orc-spawn'." He sighted. "But, since I'm an elf just like them and they can't call me 'orc-spawn' in front of the king, they settled for the next best thing to torment me with." The boy's pointy ears dropped and his shoulders, already showing the signs of being broad when he grows up, slumped sadly. "Sauron-loyalist to Morgoth and creator of orcs." He whispered, giving Legolas back the book.

The young archer stared at the child in disbelief regarding his words. Could the younglings from his beloved Greenwood the Great, really be that heartless? Branding a fellow elfling with the name of a servant of evil and creator of heartless monsters that killed their king in every war, sounded unbelievingly cruel. A word that shouldn't be associated with cute little elflings!

"Did you tell anyone about this?" Legolas asked, making the boy look up at him curious. "Your superiors? The head librarian? The palace guard? The king? Anyone?" The archer's questions became more and more desperate, every time the red-head shook his head in 'no'.

"Even if I did, what difference would it make?" The child asked, defeated. "The grown-up rarely take matters like this seriously, dismissing them as harmless games. Besides, I'm a commoner, a child from a lowly family took-in by the elf Lord of Imladris and sent here to study in the ways of an archivist. They are the sons and daughters of Lords and powerful traders." He then turned around and began to walk towards the nearest shelf. "Why would the elders help someone like me?" Legolas heard the boy whisper before completely disappearing from sight.

The young archer watched him go with only one thought lingering in his mind:

Erestor?

Thranduil was getting really bored sitting infront of his desk and counting leaves on the tree, on the other side of the large window in his room.

Legolas left twenty minutes ago and the young prince doesn't believe that walking over to the library, taking out a book, borrowing it and returning back to their quarters, would take a total of those minutes.

Groaning loudly in displeasure Thranduil was about to run away from classes again, when the source of his discomfort opened the door and entered the room.

"Finally!" He threw his teen arms in the air. "What took you so long?"

"I was…side-tracked, my prince. Forgive me for being late." Legolas promptly apologized before setting himself on the extra chair next to the elfling.

"It's okay." Thranduil smiled brightly at him. "So, what are we going to learn today, Legolas? Are you going to tell me about the Dragon country that lived above the clouds? Or show me how to use a bow? Or teach me how to take down an Oliphant with a slingshot?! Huh? Huh?! Will you?! Will you?!"

"Perhaps another day, Thranduil." Legolas answered with a patient smile. "Today let me tell you about bullying…"

JA107: Yay! Crisis avoided! XP. And sorry if the hair is wrong on Erestor but don't worry, I can fix this too. I heard that red hair darkens with time so, just take that into account and everything will be fine.


	7. Chapter 7

I'll name my son after you."

Chapter 7

"Something's are just meant to be..."

"So you're saying I'm not supposed to talk down to peasants even if they happen to be stinky little dwarves?" Thranduil asked, trying to see if he's getting the message Legolas is trying to teach him, as he sat at his desk.

"Especially when they happen to be stinky little dwarves." The young archer emphasized the word 'dwarves', and mentally sent an apology to Gimli and his kind for calling them 'stinky', hoping to prevent the future king from despising the smaller race so much.

Thranduil, rather predictably, pouted his beautiful face at him.

"But they steal rubies." The elfling whined. "And are pigheaded meanies! And smell like doggy droppings."

"They don't steal rubies, Thranduil." Legolas explained ever so patiently. "They are the ones that dig them out of the ground, so that prissy little elflings like you can marvel at them. They are not rude, they just have a specific way of showing respect." He paused. "And they don't smell that bad."

Perhaps, with the right argumentation, decades of resentment and hatred would be prevented from ever happening.

"Yes they do!" The future king yelled in defense. "Ada once had a dwarf king visit our palace to plan battle strategies and he didn't even wipe his shoes on his way in!" The child shook his head. "He didn't even wait for Muriniel to announce his arrival and just barged in on a very important meeting he had with the Gondorian people! And he didn't bow to father upon entry and very rudely demanded that he now focus on fixing his problem!"

Legolas was very swiftly regretting his recent choices in life.

"Perhaps he was in a hurry." Legolas answered quickly. "From what I gathered it was during war time, it could have been that his people were in grave danger and he had not time to lose."

Thranduil snorted.

"Maybe, but that doesn't explain why the next day I couldn't eat my breakfast, because all the silverware mysteriously disappeared along with the dwarf king and his escort!"

How is that Gimli's ancestors are so adamant to prove him wrong?!

"Well…maybe he needed the extra silver to melt into weapons?" The future prince read somewhere that it was done once or twice throughout the ages, so nobody could accuse him of making this up.

Thranduil was proving to be just as stubborn as his adult-self claimed Legolas was.

"Come on, my prince." The archer tried. "They can't all be bad."

But the little pest was having none of it.

"Oh yes they are!" He exclaimed. "They're even getting famous for it! Like in that story where the beautiful human lady was running away from an evil queen, was forced to clean up their clothes and cook them food, in order for them to let her stay! Those evil dwarves kept her inside their home and didn't let her come outside, even for a walk! It was only when the brave and noble prince charming came and recused her, that she was free from those tyrants!"

Legolas, for a solid minute and a half just blinked confused beyond belief, until the pieces finally clicked in his head.

"Wait a moment…you mean that fairytale 'Snow White'?"

Thranduil looked offended.

"That is not a fairytale!" He pouted in typical children fashion, folding his small arms on his chest. "Ada said it happened for real, and a king never lies!"

"That's not how the story goes!" Legolas argued, ignoring the elfling's earlier outburst. "The dwarves didn't make her do all those chores, she volunteered to do them in thanks for getting a warm bed and shelter!" He heard the story from the non-anti-dwarf Gandalf the Gray, so he has reasons to believe that the wizard's version was the correct one.

But the little prince waved the archer's correction away with his hand.

"That's just the version that the dwarves are spreading out so that they don't look so bad." Thranduil shrugged and the bewilderment on his new teacher's face. "Ada always said that: 'the truth is often very painful to confront, and that's why people lie to themselves to avoid facing the issue directly'."

Legolas was rubbing his face with more force than necessary, by the time the boy finished talking. It seemed that his father was always meant to hate dwarves, and no interference can ever change that.

"But, if you're still not convinced, they also took all of Cookie Balrog's carrots and some of my favorite rubies, not to mention Muriniel's favorite gold plate, Caedmon's sword, Kala's brooch…" And the list went on and on.

After a minute Legolas lost all faith that this brattling of his father, is going to ever let the matter go. So he did the smartest thing that came to his mind.

He placed a hand over the elfling's mouth, effectively preventing more words from coming out.

"Okay, okay…I see that your opinion of dwarves is already to solidly construct to change." The blond prince only let go of the child, when he was sure he won't continue his rant. "You win this round."

The look Thranduil was positively shining with raw smugness.

Legolas rolled his eyes in exaggeration and ruffled the child's platinum blond hair to distract him from looking so cocky.

"Oi! Stop that! You don't get to do that! Only Ada gets to do that!" The child yelped and then began fixing his ruined hair with his hands.

"Whatever you say, Your Littleness." Legolas's voice was full of sarcasm and mirth, which earned him a showing off of his own father's tongue.

Huh…there's a situation the archer definitely didn't imagine himself getting involved into.

"Well…I suppose we can take a lunch break." The archer stated looking outside at the beautiful weather. "Perhaps we can have a small picnic outside the castle grounds?"

Upon hearing the words 'outdoors' and 'picnic' the frown on the little prince's face immediately turned into a bright smile.

"Yes! Yes please!" Thranduil bounced up and down around his teacher who laughed at his enthusiasm. "Can we go by horse? Can I take Shirin, I always wanted to take her for a ride! You can take Jinni in that case, she's almost as fast. Can we go to the lake? Can you show me how to fish? Please? Please?!"

"Alright, my prince." Legolas chuckled and grabbed his father's hand. "If the king allows us to go, then we will go."

Thranduil nearly dragged him to his father's private chambers, he was so excited.

When Oropher was young and impatient to taste the world, he did a lot of things he isn't proud of today. One of those things was taking advantage of a fellow elleth, when he was drunk at a friend's begetting day.

He apologized the next day of course, though it wasn't entirely his fault for his friends put him up to it and he wasn't in control of his actions at the time, and even paid the young girl a lot of money to keep her parents from fussing.

That happened so long ago that the silver haired king completely forgot about that embarrassing incident of his youth.

But the past has a way of coming back to haunt you.

And now there was a big chance that the consequences of that one faithful day, were standing in front of him asking if he can take little Thranduil for a picnic.

JA107: Drear readers! Sorry for the wait but my final exams are coming and I don't have as much time as I had before to write. Also I wanted to apologize for any continuity errors that might occur *cough cough* the Sauron thing *cough cough* because, let's face it, 'Lord of the Ring's' has an ENORMOUS lore that is far too big for my pea-sized brain to memorize. So take this story with a grind of salt and have fun :D


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